


what makes a monster and what makes a man?

by zombiejuju



Series: Saphael Week [2]
Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Background Clary Fray/Jace Wayland, Disney AU, Implied Raphael Santiago/Camille Belcourt, M/M, One-Sided Clary Fray/Simon Lewis, One-Sided Simon Lewis/Camille Belcourt, Saphael Week 2017, The Hunchback of Notre Dame AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-19
Updated: 2017-09-19
Packaged: 2018-12-31 10:12:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,537
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12130230
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zombiejuju/pseuds/zombiejuju
Summary: “She wants to wipe out the shadowhunters. She says you’re evil, that you want us to starve. She says you’re the real reason I’m locked up, that you’d kill me without trying to get to know the man beneath the monster.”“That’s not true,” Simon says, “There’s nothing monstrous about you. Any shadowhunter can see it.”“Then explain the blond one’s homicidal hatred,” Raphael supplies, scoffing at Simon’s naivety. Simon’s face falls into a frown.“Shadowhunters are complex,” Alec says, “Just like vampires.”





	what makes a monster and what makes a man?

**Author's Note:**

> Featuring Simon as Esmeralda, Raphael as Quasimodo, and Camille as Judge Frollo (pure, actual evil). TBH, _The Hunchback of Notre Dame_ is the only thing from Disney I give a shit about and Quasimodo is the only man I love. There are literally movie quotes in here so watch out for those!
> 
> Warnings: Blood, violence, abuse, torture, controlling/possessive/over all creepy behavior (including non-consensual kissing) on Camille's part, animal death, Jace is super anti-vampire and warmongering here, death (and resurrection), and some self-loathing courtesy of Stockholm Syndrome (probably). None of this is graphic and some of it is just implied/referenced/in the past.
> 
> Prompted by: [Saphael Week Day 2](https://fyeahsaphael.tumblr.com/post/164294220131/hii-so-recently-there-has-been-a-lack-of-saphael) (Disney AU).

“Our connections at the NYPD sent this over,” Alec says once Jace, Clary, Izzy, and Simon gather around him. He taps on a monitor, pulling up a digital file. Images pass by in a slideshow: a plethora of pale corpses, all with puncture marks on their necks, “They’ve been sucked dry.”

“Vampire attack. Easy,” Jace says, moving to leave for the weapons room.

Alec grabs onto Jace’s forearm to halt him, “We’ve been told all the bodies have been found around that old cathedral on the outskirts of town. Civilians have reported ‘odd, yet beautiful violin music’ coming from the tower.”

“Okay, so we have a reclusive vampire musician. Your point?”

“Does this seem right to you, Jace? Really think about it. A reclusive vampire who enjoys playing violin late at night going out of his way to draw mundanes to his old, abandoned church?”

“He probably has someone helping him. I’m telling you: he’s a vamp, so he’s a killer,” Jace asserts. Alec, Izzy, and Clary each give him a skeptical look.

“Maybe not all vampires are bad. Did you ever think about that?” Simon asks, earning glares from other nearby shadowhunters.

“Excuse him,” Alec says, “He was raised by mundanes.”

“Hey,” Simon exclaims as the rest of the shadowhunters nod and return to their business.

“We need to thoroughly investigate,” Alec says, looking at Jace, “ _Before_ we attack.”

“Fine,” Jace agrees, grimacing, “But I’m bringing my blade just in case.”

“Maybe we should wait till daylight before we go poking around a vampire’s lair,” Simon says.

“You shouldn’t come at all, mundie,” Jace says. There’s something self righteous and omniscient about his tone. It turns Simon’s expression sour and pains his chest with defiance.

“He’s right, Si,” Clary says, adjusting her thigh holster, “It could be dangerous.”

“That’s rich, coming from the newbie,” Izzy laughs. Jace and Clary both shoot her a sharp glare but she just rolls her eyes at them.

“I’m going, Fray,” Simon asserts, “Best friends, remember? Wherever you go, I go. We’re a package deal.”

“Alright, Simon. Just, be careful, okay?” Clary says, resting a hand on his shoulder. He looks at it and beams before gazing into her eyes and nodding. She drops her hand and smiles in return, then leaves him so she can get weapons with Jace. His smile drops.

* * *

Simon starts to reconsider his friendship with Clary right around the time Camille Belcourt takes a chunk out of his jugular. Turns out, her and her loyal followers were the ones draining humans. After she finishes feeding on him, she drags him upstairs and tosses him on a bed, slamming the door shut and locking it from the outside.

All in all, despite the incessant bleeding, it’s not so bad. The bed is a California king with maroon silk sheets, pillow cases, a large satin comforter to match. He’s quite comfortable, blinking in and out of consciousness, when he notices that someone else is in the room. They’re in the darkest corner, hiding from him while also watching him wearily.

“This is unusual,” Raphael wonders aloud, “Ms. Belcourt bringing a meal up here. What makes you special enough to savor?”

“Are you a vampire, too? Should I be worried that you’re going to finish me off? Because honestly, the whole lurking in the shadows thing? Freaking me out more than Camille literally attacking me.”

“You’re bleeding profusely,” Raphael says. He emerges from the shadows and creeps toward the bed, hand reaching out. Simon flinches as a cold hand is pressed to the side of his neck, over the wound. Raphael recoils, “You need not worry. I don’t feed from mundanes.”

“What do you drink, then?”

“Not mundanes. That’s all you need to know.”

“Simon.”

“Hm?”

“My name. It’s Simon.”

“Raphael,” The young vampire replies, tearing a rag from the bottom of his own blouse and wrapping it taut around Simon’s neck, “I hope that helps with your bleeding. But just in case, let me…”

Raphael trails off, earning a curious look from Simon. He extends his nails, using the sharp stiletto of his index finger to slice his own flesh, right below his hand. Raphael rests his hemorrhaging wrist against Simon’s lips.

“Drink. Vampire blood has healing properties.”

“I know, I’m kind of an expert,” Simon boasts.

“If you were, you wouldn’t be here. Now drink.”

Simon’s face contorts in disgust before he obeys, opening his mouth and wrapping his lips around Raphael’s wrist. It’s strange, he thinks, but not too terrible. Drinking someone else’s blood just reminds him of getting a tooth pulled by the dentist, before the socket stops bleeding and all he can taste is copper.

Raphael tugs his arm from Simon’s mouth and hisses. He backs away into his shadowy corner and turns his gaze from Simon.

“Come back out?” Simon asks. He sits up in bed and rests his back against the headboard, instantly recognizing how much better he feels. Dazed, like the pseudo-high he gets after medication has finally banished a migraine, “I didn’t really get a good look at you.”

“You’re lucky,” Raphael whispers, “I’m a monster.”

“That can’t be true. You saved my life.”

“You should rest now,” Raphael says instead, “She’ll be back for you. You’ll need your energy.”

* * *

Each night for a week, barely a minute after sunset, Camille returns like clockwork. She feeds on Simon each time, to the brink of death, and then she pulls back. Every time, she asks him whether or not he’ll be hers for an eternity, and his answer is always ‘no’.

Tonight’s a little different. Once she’s been rejected again, she turns to the darkness and makes eye contact with Raphael.

“You’ll be mine or you’ll be no one’s,” She says to Simon without looking at him. She laughs, something shrill and demonic, before leaning over him. She slots her lips along his, deep and caressing, and the moment she leaves the room, Simon splutters saliva onto the floor and wipes at his mouth with the back of his hand.

“As my dying wish, I’d like to finally see you. Really see you,” Simon says. It’s supposed to be a joke, but Raphael doesn’t laugh. Simon decides that all this time in the darkness has taken away Raphael’s ability to see the light. Simon also considers that maybe, just maybe, Raphael was just born without a sense of humor. Simon tries again, “Please, show me what you look like?”

Raphael heaves a sigh before stepping out of the corner slowly. The single bedside lamp engulfs his figure until, instead of being the shadow, he produces one of his own. Simon takes a moment to really look at Raphael now, the beauty _and_ the abuse.

Raphael’s hair and eyes are dark, hair slicked back with gel. His eyebrows arch a fair distance below his hairline, shaping around his eyes sharply.  His skin is gloriously tan despite its paleness, as if someone dusted him in white powder. His lips are plump and curvaceous and his square jaw has just the tiniest hint of stubble. He’s lean and short and sharply dressed. And, mostly importantly, Simon notes that Raphael doesn’t look like a monster _at all_.

“I didn’t know vampires could have permanent scars,” Simon says. Raphael moves his palm to cover the indent in his cheek, “But I mean, wow. You’re, like, _super_ beautiful.”

Raphael rolls his eyes and sits on the edge of the bed, back turned to Simon, “How old are you?”

“Nineteen,” Simon says, “You?”

“It’s hard to tell. I’ve spent too much time up here,” Raphael pauses, “Why are you here?”

“I was with some shadowhunters. We were investigating why so many bodies were piling up around here.”

“How did you get captured?”

“Too many of your clanmates for them to handle, I guess. I wound up separated. Camille took me.”

“Why does she want _you_?”

“I don’t know. She probably figures they’ll come back for me and she’ll get to hurt them too.”

“Where are your friends? Why haven’t they come back for you?” Raphael turns to look at Simon now, folding his legs beneath himself.

“Maybe they already came back. Maybe they’re already dead,” Simon replies, shrugging.

“How can you be so comfortable here? You know what’s coming for you.”

“Exactly. I can’t be anxious if I know what to expect,” Simon smiles before continuing, “Plus, it’s not so bad. You’re here. It could def. be worse. I could be stuck totally alone with her.”

Raphael plays with the cuffs on his suit jacket.

“How did you turn?” Simon asks in the quiet.

“Ms. Belcourt tells me my mother sold me to vampires but I don’t remember that. I don’t remember anything from before I turned.”

Simon hums quietly, “And you believe her?”

“She’s the clan leader and my master. I have no reason to doubt her.”

“She keeps you locked up in a bell tower. That’s a pretty good reason, I think,” Simon says. He scoots closer to Raphael and puts a hand on his knee, “Why does she do that? And what happened to you? Why are you scarred?”

“I’m not normal. Ms. Belcourt says all the shadowhunters would come for me, that I wouldn’t survive a day without her. She’s been taking care of me my entire after life and so, I believe her,” Raphael pauses and pushes Simon’s hand from his leg, “As for the scars, the other vampires are rather cruel when Ms. Belcourt isn’t around to stop them.”

“If she knows you’re suffering, she should let you free. After all, nobody wants to be cooped up here forever,” Simon pauses as a rat skids across the floor. He goes to shriek but it gets trapped in his throat as he watches Raphael lung from the bed and scoop up the rat. A sickly crunch reaches Simon’s ears as Raphael’s fangs bite into the rodent’s body. A moment later, the creature’s carcass is discarded near the locked door with a thud. Simon trains his face back into a kind smile before Raphael returns to his spot on the bed, “Is that what you drink?”

Raphael nods.

“Why doesn’t Camille bring you leftovers or something?”

“Ms. Belcourt prefers I feed on the blood of rats and other pests. She says it’s because she caught me gorging on mundanes when I first turned,” Raphael admits, retreating into his dark corner, “Sleep now. Who knows what tomorrow holds?”

“I do,” Simon says. He rolls over onto his side to face where he assumes Raphael is, “I’m going to die.”

“I wouldn’t let that happen,” Raphael whispers, so quietly Simon is sure he’s dreaming it, “You don’t deserve that.”

* * *

Simon wakes to a cacophony of war below the bell tower and someone battering the door down. It crashes forward, hinges springing deep into the room. A wide path of sunlight blazes in, causing Simon’s eyes to ache after constant darkness. Raphael hisses, clamoring as far from the beam of light as possible.

“Simon,” Clary exclaims, rushing toward him. She checks him for any major injuries, nodding in satisfaction when she finds he’s relatively unscatched. She pecks his cheek, lips pressing his soft skin ever so gently, before she embraces him in a warm hug, “Oh, thank God you're alright!”

Raphael glares at the sight, attention only taken away from her when another shadowhunter, he supposes, enters the room behind her.

“We got ‘im, Alec,” Jace says into an earpiece, “Carrying him out now.”

“I’m fine. I don’t need to be carried out,” Simon says. He glares at Jace, face marked with stubborn rage, before turning to the blackest corner in the room and pointing at it, “But, uh, that’s Raphael. He’s coming with us.”

“No way, mundie. We are not taking a _vampire_ with us,” Jace says in a dirty, prejudiced way that makes Simon grit his teeth.

“He’s not like the others,” Simon insists, “Camille keeps him locked up here. He feeds off of animals. For fuck’s sake, Jace, the other vampires bully him.”

“So what, you’ve got sympathy for a blood sucking killer? Use your brain, mundie. If she keeps him locked up, it’s probably because he’s too dangerous _even_ for her taste.”

“Are you even listening?” Simon asks, “How about this? He never fed on me, even helped keep me alive after Camille almost killed me.”

“Probably so his sire would have a nice, lasting meal,” Jace says. He pulls out his seraph blade and advances into the room.

“He can come with us,” Clary says. She moves to Jace and lays a hand placatingly on his shoulder, “Maybe he can help us figure out what Camille’s endgame is.”

“Not likely,” Jace says, glaring somewhere beyond Clary's face, “He’s probably loyal to her.”

“He can be swayed,” Simon whispers and it sounds like a promise, “We just have to show him the way.”

* * *

Jace and Alec lug a black, zipped up body bag into the Institute. They carry it to Alec’s room, where Jace unceremoniously drops his end of the bag onto the floor near the footboard. Alec sighs, rolls his eyes, and carefully places his end of the bag on the floor.

“I hope I had the end with his head,” Alec says to himself while unzipping the bag.

“Where’s Simon?” Raphael asks, flinching at the bright fluorescent lights overhead. He lifts himself off the floor and out of the bag.

“He’s in the infirmary,” Alec answers, “Do you have any injuries?”

“I’m alright,” Raphael says. His face scrunches in confusion, “Why did the blond one agree to take me?”

“He cares what Clary thinks of him, Clary cares what Simon thinks, Simon thinks you’re okay, and I think that you help us deal with Camille,” Alec explains. Another shadowhunter comes in, placing a small cooler at Alec’s feet, “I’m Alec, by the way. Are you hungry?”

Raphael glances between the cooler and Alec’s face, searching, calculating, trying to decide if this is a trap.

“It’s alright,” Alec says, procuring a bag of blood from the cooler and stretching his hand out in offering. Raphael inches toward Alec, reaching his own hand out slow, before snatching the bag and flashing a few feet away from him. He immediately tears the bag open with his fangs, blood gushing against his lips, and feeds greedily, “Don’t worry about savoring it, it’s okay. We have plenty more. They’re all yours.”

“For an alliance. I help you defeat Ms. Belcourt and I get food and shelter, right?” Raphael asks the moment his bag is empty. He tosses it at Alec’s feet, who grimaces at the speck of blood that lands on his boots. He looks up at Raphael and nods, “Of course, betray my master. It doesn’t matter at all.”

“From what I’ve gathered from Clary and Simon's report, she wasn’t very good to you. She sounds like, for lack of a better term, pure evil.”

“She says the same thing about shadowhunters and mundanes. You don’t understand us and you don’t try.”

“You’re right, Raphael,” Alec admits, “Some shadowhunters aren’t very good people. But _I’m_ just trying to do my job. Camille is a monster, she hurts innocent people, and those people deserve justice.”

“Why does it matter? They’re already dead.”

“What about all of those future victims? You can save them. You can stop her. So a cruel woman raised you. You’re not the only one. You don’t have to be the product of that. You can be better.”

“Ms. Belcourt didn’t say much to me before Simon came and she said even less to me while he was there.”

“You know something, Raphael, and you’re going to tell us,” Alec says just as Simon enters the room.

“Please, Raphael. Tell us what Camille’s up to so you can stay,” Simon tries, earning a sigh from Raphael.

“She wants to wipe out the shadowhunters. She says you’re evil, that you want us to starve. She says you’re the real reason I’m locked up, that you’d kill me without trying to get to know the man beneath the monster.”

“That’s not true,” Simon says, “There’s nothing monstrous about you. Any shadowhunter can see it.”

“Then explain the blond one’s homicidal hatred,” Raphael supplies, scoffing at Simon’s naivety. Simon’s face falls into a frown.

“Shadowhunters are complex,” Alec says, “Just like vampires.”

* * *

Simon’s barely back in the Insitute for a full day when Camille takes him hostage again. She’s in Clary’s room, holding him in a headlock, room guarded by more vampires than Simon’s seen in his entire life, _including_ in films. She extends her fangs, sinking them viciously into Simon’s neck, draining every last sip of blood from his body. 

Clary and Jace arrive just in time to see her drop Simon’s corpse, and it’s Clary’s bloodcurdling scream that has Raphael racing to her room.

“Well, well, well. What do we have here?” Camille coos, “‘Better to beg forgiveness than to ask for permission.’ Right, Raphael?”

“What did you do to him?” Raphael asks, voice breaking. He rushes over to Simon and kneels beside him.

“We have to feed to live, Raphael. He would’ve been fine if he hadn’t resisted so much.”

“Is that how it happened with Raphael’s parents?” Jace asks.

“What do you mean? I saved that dear boy.”

“We did a little research,” Jace says, “Looking up attacks within the last eighty or so years. We found something pretty interesting, Raphael. We were actually just on our way to tell you.”

“Whatever he’s about to say. It isn’t true, dear. He’s just trying to turn you against me. Remember that I’ve taken care of you all these years.”

“You kept him trapped in a bell tower!” Clary exclaims, jaw setting in frustration, “You made him feel like a monster. You lied to him about his past.”

“Camille and co. rolled into town right as mobs and gangs became more commonplace. She gained popularity and fame by promising safety to the poor and downtrodden. How did she do that, Clary?” Jace asks. He glances at her out of the corner of his eye while holding Camille at sword’s length.

“Oh, if they gave her and her followers blood, she promised to send a nightly patrol pack their way. And of course, most of the time, she kept good on her word. Until…”

“Until an entire family came to her door step. The Santiagos. And what was it about that family, Camille, that made you so ravenous?”

“It was a mistake, Raphael. Sweet, dear, Raphael,” Camille promises, reaching forward to run her fingers through his silky hair, “We gorged and left you all for dead. And when you died, you came to us, sired by me. My greatest gift, my happiest accident.”

“Sure,” Jace says, “Vampires overfeed all the time. But you know what wasn’t an accident? Raising him like a beast, and literally every other thing you’ve done.”

Jace moves to attack, to claim justice for her victims--especially Simon--but his blade disappears from his hand. He blinks and it’s in Camille’s chest, held by Raphael’s trembling fist.

“I’m sorry, Ms. Belcourt,” Raphael whispers, one hand gripping the hilt and the other supporting her back, gently laying her onto the floor, “But you hurt me. You hurt my family. You hurt Simon.”

Camille turns to dust, blade clattering on the floor. It sends her ashes drifting through the air. Clary and Jace turn to the vampires, expecting a retaliation, but the vampires are on their knees. Raphael turns around, gazing at each one of them. In turn, they refuse to make eye contact with him.

“Guess you’re the leader now?” Clary says to Raphael. She looks at Jace, who nods in confirmation. She seems to remember herself then because she’s running over to Simon’s side, clutching at his chest, sobbing and begging for him to wake up.

“Bury him,” Raphael says, earning a confused stare from Clary, “Bury. Him.”

“He has vampire blood in him?” Jace asks.

“How do you think I kept him alive the entire week?”

* * *

Simon transitioning into life as a vampire is easy with Raphael by his side and in turn, he makes Raphael’s reintegration into society more comfortable. Raphael becomes the new clan leader and Simon stays by his side. They grow so close that it doesn’t surprise Simon when Raphael presses a chaste kiss to his lips before pulling away shyly. Simon takes his hand, intertwining their fingers, and squeezes it reassuringly.

“The reports said you played violin but I never saw you do it the entire time I was there.”

“I was embarrassed...and curious. I couldn’t remember what being human was like. And I still can’t, not really.”

“We’ll help you remember,” Simon says and even though it’s just the two of them, Raphael knows he means his newfound friends like Clary and Jace. He nods at Simon.

“Perhaps I’ll play the violin for you some time,” Raphael says, leaning toward Simon and pressing another light kiss to his lips. A kiss utterly ruined by the smile Simon’s mouth stretches into at the thought of Raphael serenading him.

“Yeah, I’d like that,” He responds, squashing his smile so he can kiss Raphael some more.


End file.
